


If You Fall, I'll Catch You

by smashmouth_hargrove



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, M/M, Party, that sappy and silly shit y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:49:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smashmouth_hargrove/pseuds/smashmouth_hargrove
Summary: Tommy doesn't talk to Steve for a year after he declares him an asshole and ditches him for Nancy, but when a very drunk Steve falls into his arms in the middle of a party, what is he supposed to do, just leave him there?
Relationships: Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington
Kudos: 16





	If You Fall, I'll Catch You

Steve and Tommy were both the most stubborn people they knew, Tommy more so that Steve, but still. After fights it took _days_ for one of them to finally give in and apologize, usually Steve, but when it came down to it they always came back together.

But then Nancy happened and one thing lead to another, Tommy was shoving Steve up against his car, then he was driving off.

They didn’t talk for five months and even then it was only in passing. They didn’t really mend their friendship until the following year, the winter after Steve broke up with Nancy- or rather Nancy broke up with Steve, when one fateful night at a party a drunk Steve Harrington fell into Tommy’s arms with an erratic laugh.

“Tommy, missed you man... where ya been?” he slurred with a lazy smile tugging at his lips, chin tilted up, pressed against Tommy’s chest, big brown eyes trying their best to focus on his face.

“Uh, right here,” Tommy answered awkwardly, struggling to hold nearly all of Steve’s dead weight against him while Carol just looked on in amusement, no matter how many times he looked over at her with pleading eyes.

“Mhm, yeah, but like...” Steve’s head lulled over to the side, cheek pressed between Tommy’s pecs, “ _Your warm_.” He hummed contently and just when Tommy didn’t think the lanky boy could get any heavier he did. 

“Alright,” Tommy huffed decidedly, “How would you like to go home?” And maybe they weren’t friends anymore, or so they each thought, but Tommy wasn’t going to leave Steve like _this_ in the middle of a party. He knew the girls in Hawkins, and he wasn’t going to say that they would take advantage of a loose Steve Harrington who’d had a few too many, but... _they would_.

“Will you be there?” Steve looked up at Tommy with hopeful eyes while Tommy’s own just went wide. He didn’t understand where this was all coming from, as far as he knew Steve still hated his guts and now he was hanging all over him. It didn’t make sense and yet part of him was kind of glad that it was happening, glad that Steve didn’t seem to hate him anymore.

“Sure,” he agreed, “But only if you stop hanging on me like a jungle gym, you’re heavy man.” And he swore he’d never seen Steve stand up quicker for anything in his life. He had almost forgotten how much taller Steve was than him. _3 1/2 inches_ , they measured once, but it felt more now with Steve oddly straight posture looking ready to leave.

Tommy gave a quick look over to Carol and she quickly picked up on the situation, catching the keys as they were tossed to her. He figured they’d take Steve’s car for convenience.

“I’ll drive,” Steve commented surely, stuffing his whole hand into his back pocket before pulling out the keys to his BMW, Tommy quickly swooping in and taking them.

“Oh no you won’t,” he replied with a soft laugh, finding amusement in Steve’s crazy drunken judgement, “The only place we’re going if you drive is el cielo.”

“Always loved it when you talked Mexican to me,” Steve admired.

“Spanish, Stevie, it’s Spanish,” he informed, giving Steve a soft pat on the shoulder before grabbing his wrist beginning to pull him through the crowd.

“Eh, potato potatoe, tomato spaghetti,” Steve mumbled through loose lips, pulling a laugh out of Tommy.

“I- _okay,”_ he just agreed, deciding not to fight the mush that was Steve’s brain at the moment.

The drive home was quiet- _well_ , on Tommy’s end, the same couldn’t be said about Steve. The guy didn’t shut up when he was sober, when he was drunk it was _constant_. Always talking to himself, rambling on to nobody about whatever came to mind. The last thing Tommy heard was something about one of Nancy’s boobs being bigger than the other before he started tuning him out.

After what felt like an eternity of Steve talking his ear off they were at his house. it didn’t hit him how long it had been until he spotted the new paint job on the wood and a new car in the drive way, presumably one of the many his father didn’t drive.

“Well, here we are, la casa del Harrington,” Tommy spoke, rolling his eyes at the giggling Steve next to him apparently once again amused by him speaking Spanish to him, or as Steve liked to call it, ‘ _Mexican’._

Tommy walked Steve to the foot of the stairs before his body went loose again like a fucking limp noodle.

“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” he groaned, grabbing Steve by the wrists, beginning to pull him up the stairs while he just laughed up a storm.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t love me, Tom,” Tommy just looked at him like he was crazy.

“Who ever said anything about be loving you?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowed as he pushed through the pain in his biceps to get Steve to the top of the stairs.

“Me, _silly,”_ Steve broke out into laughter again and Tommy had about had it with him. Maybe he wasn’t too far off though, deep inside there was a part of him that loved Steve, as a friend, as _more_. But he buried that away a long time ago, with it memories of hurt and pain that he didn’t care so much to bring back.

“ _Okay,”_ Tommy breathed out having finally gotten to the top of the stairs, “Now it’d _really_ help if you got your ass up and _walked_.”

“Can’t...” Steve replied, head falling to the side, “Can’t feel my legs.” He started laughing again and Tommy had had about enough, but Steve was lucky he was patient.

“ _Fine,_ but you owe me _big time,”_ he sighed, ever weak to his best friends demands. He ended up having to haul Steve into his bed and tucking him in too. _Fuckin’ needy_.

Just as he was about to leave, lights already off, only the hallway light seeping in from outside illuminating the dark room, Steve spoke again.

“Stay.” he whispered, it would have been inaudible if the room wasn’t dead silent.

“Steve I can’t,” he turned around to look at Steve all snug in his bed with a small pout on his face, the same one he would give his mom when they were kids and he didn’t get his way.

“But you’re warm, and I’ll get lonely, and, please?” Steve ranted, trying so hard to get him to stay.

“You’re _drunk_ ,” Tommy said sternly.

“ _I love you_.”

“Steven,” he quickly followed up with disapprovingly, not wanting to get into it right now.

“Tomás,” Steve challenged, full names coming out.

“Goodnight,” Tommy finished, leaving the room to the sound of Steve’s whines and complaints and maybe even the sound of him falling out of bed trying to chase him, but he wasn’t sure because he didn’t look back. He couldn’t handle this right now, couldn’t handle Steve and all his sappy _‘I love you’s’,_ couldn’t handle being back in this house.

He ended up sleeping on the couch. He told himself it was only to make sure that Steve didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, try to go for a swim, and drown. But part of him did kind of miss the expensive couch, the one they always sat on in rebellion of Steve’s mothers rules. He missed their sleepovers, playing video games on the TV that was much bigger than Tommy’s own, missed their blanket forts.

But more than that he missed _Steve_ , missed his stupid big hair and his stupid pretty face. He missed his smile and his laugh as much as it annoyed him only minutes before. He missed the way he would always listen, missed the way he hummed when cooking or made his cute little confused face while doing his homework- _he needed to stop_.

He didn’t even realize he fell asleep until he was being awoken by the annoyingly bright sun shinning in his face. He tried to pull the blanket up over his face, only to realize that he didn’t have one. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he smelled fresh coffee wafting in from the kitchen.

Intrigued, he pushed himself up off the couch, stretching out his sore limbs from last night before walking to the kitchen, socks sliding along the hardwood of the entryway as his feet drug.

At first he was confused when he didn’t spot anyone, rubbing his eyes and blinking them into focus, but then a shirtless Steve in nothing but his jeans from last night unbuttoned and unzipped appeared from inside the pantry. _Jesus_.

“Mornin’,” Steve greeted, voice husky and deep from sleep.

“Hey,” Tommy replied, walking over to the counter space next to the coffee pot, jumping up to sit there like old times, but not before grabbing a mug to pour himself a cup of coffee, “How’re you feeling.”

“Like shit,” Steve answered, “Head hurts like a bitch, but I’m craving pancakes, so. Here we are.” Tommy just nodded, blowing on his coffee. He wondered if Steve remembered _anything_ from the night before or if it was all one big blur.

“You like blueberry’s, right?” Steve questioned, pointing a batter-coated spoon in his direction.

“You should know I do,” he answered, eyes looking up at him only for a moment before focusing back in on the dark abyss of his black coffee.

“I know it’s just- it’s been a while, _alright?_ Cut me some slack.” Steve _really_ didn’t sound in the mood to start any sort of confrontation so Tommy just shut his mouth, _behaving_ for once in his life.

Breakfast was good, Steve was a pretty good chef when it came down too and, and who could fuck up pancakes? The worst you could do was burn them and even then they tasted fine. after breakfast Tommy decided he didn’t want to over stay his welcome and should be going, giving Steve his time to recover from the night before.

they made it to the door, Steve opening to let him out when he finally got the courage to speak up and ask.

“Did you mean it.” Steve looked confused, brows knitted together as he looked at Tommy like he was crazy.

“Mean... _what?”_ he asked, scratching at his belly.

“What you said last night, that you... that you _love_ _me.”_ and Steve’s face turned redder than a tomato, cheeks flushing like Tommy had never seen before.

“No- _no,_ I just, I was drunk, y’know? Things slip out, and _, no_ , I didn’t mean it. Like, you’re a good friend but, _no.”_ Tommy could feel his heart slowly cracking with each new form of ‘ _no I don’t love you’_ being spoken to him. He didn’t know what he was expecting, knew this wasn’t a fairy tale, knew he wouldn't’ get his happy ending.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Tommy countered, feeling bold, looking at Steve with every ounce of hope left in his body.

“Oh, that’s cool, I-” Steve’s words died int he back of his throat when Tommy’s lips came crashing into his, hand holding either side of his face. But, before he could even react they were gone.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have fucking-” Steve grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him back int o finish what Tommy started. He could feel fireworks setting off inside his stomach as Steve’s fingers twined into his hair, lips just as soft as they looked moving skillfully against his own. And maybe they didn’t end up in heaven because Steve wrapped his BMW around a tree, but he sure felt like he was in it right now.


End file.
